The Castle of Otranto, Page 3

  SONNET TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LADY MARY COKE.

  The gentle maid, whose hapless tale These melancholy pages speak; Say, gracious lady, shall she fail To draw the tear adown thy cheek?

  No; never was thy pitying breast Insensible to human woes; Tender, tho’ firm, it melts distrest For weaknesses it never knows.

  Oh! guard the marvels I relate Of fell ambition scourg’d by fate, From reason’s peevish blame. Blest with thy smile, my dauntless sail I dare expand to Fancy’s gale, For sure thy smiles are Fame.

  H. W.